Store (an acrostic poem)

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Selling pieces of his soul was the only way he could get ahead
They were not large pieces, but they all added up
Outside everything was fine, but inside, the echoes of who he had been became a cacophony
Relegating his self-worth into moral bankruptcy
Eventually, he ran out of product, closed up shop, and faded from memory

Crisps (an acrostic poem)

Image: cuisinart.com/globalassets/recipes/recipe_11815_813439961.jpg

Crunchy chips deliver their payload of salt and carbs

Rallying my taste buds into a feeding frenzy

It becomes an addictive craving that must be met

Soon the bag is consumed, and I look around

People at the grocery store are looking at me weirdly

So what you’re saying is should have waited till I got home?